Save Me From My Hell
by MistressMae
Summary: A wincest Fanfic. Mature material but not too graphic. Dean's back from hell Sam really missed him. Dean really missed Sam.
1. Chapter 1

This fiction takes place a week before Dean comes back from hell in season 4. This fiction only deals with the brothers. There are no other characters from supernatural in it aside from Castiel occasionally. There will be new made up characters. I am focusing on the brothers relationship. I also took the demon blood addiction storyline out, and changed it into to drug addiction (you'll see why). So everything else in the series pretty much happens. John died selling his soul for Dean. Sam lost Jessica the same way Mary died. I down pay the Sam/Jessica love storyline because Sam has always been in love with Dean. Comments are welcome and let me know if there's something you think I should try writing in.

Prologue

Sam lied on the bed smiling blissfully thinking about the first time he had ever kissed Dean, knowing they had come so far since then. Being 100% secure in there relationship, knowing, without a doubt, he wouldn't change a thing. Dean was on his side muttering something about being hungry and slowly slipped out of the sheets. It took him awhile to emerge from the sheet and sit on the edge of the huge king sized four poster bed. Dean rolled his neck working out all the kinks that Sam knew had everything to do with what they were doing all night. Dean stood up. Sam admired his perfectly sculpted ass. When Dean bent over to pick up his pants Sam smiled, and leaned over and smacked his bottom with as much force as his loose limps could muster. Dean gasped at the unknown sharp sensation he felt.

"Ouch!" He said meaning it.

Sam just laughed and folded his arms behind his head watching Dean slip into his pants muscles working as he bended. Dean didn't put on anything else just his faded jeans slightly torn at the bottom and made his way into the kitchen for sustenance. Sam fell back onto the pillows his long, wild hair spilling around him. After a few minutes Sam smelled the intoxicating sent of fresh brewed coffee and thought of how much he truly loved Dean.

Chapter 1: Hurts like hell

Sam jumped up his own screams waking him. He turned on the lamp on the bedside table, and looked at himself on the large mirror over the dresser in the dank little motel room he had rented, unable to bear the impala for one more minute. It wasn't that he didn't love his brother's pride and joy, it was just it smelled so much like Dean, and he could clearly see him, and feel him every second he was driving it. He let his mind wonder a bit. Remembering the first time Dean ever drove it. The look of wonder on his face as he made it above fifty, the way Dean's eyes always lit up emerald green and they crinkled up so tight when he was really happy.

Sam didn't recognize the loud sob of agony that escaped his lips. He did it again, thought about Dean too long. He braced himself as the his body started shaking with deep blood curdling sobs. He waited for the loud horrible shrieks to stop and ebb into tiny whimpers. It had almost been four months since he watched those hellhounds rip Dean, the only thing in his whole existence that ever mattered to him, to shreds. He clenched his first as tight as he could until his nails dug deep into his palm. The need to kill something evil was working up a heavy appetite in him. He knew he would have to go on a hunt soon to be able to keep his sanity.

Once he was brave enough he looked in the mirror again. His face looked pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes. His hair was dry and had no shine, mainly because he gave no fucks about his appearance anymore. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He wanted to be completely unapproachable. He held himself tightly when he felt his body start to shake again. This time it had nothing to do with the pain he felt in his chest at the absence of his brother. He let himself feel like crap for a little bit. He started to get a painful stabbing in his head. His body shook uncontrollably. He felt like he was freezing meanwhile he was sweating profusely. He couldn't bring himself to look at himself anymore thinking about how much of an incredible piece of shit he truly was.

"Why!" He screamed at nothing. "Why!" He demanded into the empty room. "Why." He said one more time softer as the tears started rolling down his face warm and stinging from crying so much. He was pissed, in agony, he wanted to bring back Dean so he could kick his ass as hard as he possibly could. How could he sell his soul to save him? How did he not know that he would rather die one thousand deaths then spend one day away from him. He shuddered at the thought of what horrible torture Dean must be enduring right now.

That was it, the thought that set him over the edge. He sprung to his feet his sweat pants and gray shirt drenched in sweat and reached for the bottle of hydrocodone he kept on the nightstand shoving the last four in his mouth swallowing them with the bottle of whisky that was always near him. He walked into the small kitchen area with the bottle and chugged half of it getting a much needed buzz as he sank into, the way too small for his 6ft 4in frame, desk chair. He took out his phone and texted his dealer DizzyBone.

"What do you have that's good?" He sent

"I got some really good soda, and just got some hair dye." Dizzy answered almost instantly. Sam loved that Dizzy treated selling drugs like an actual business. He was actually professional. Showed up on time, things like that. He hated the stupid paranoid code names he used.

"I need the usual plus 40 of hair dye." Sam had never tried heroine but he was down for anything that helped him escape his hell on earth.

"Alright so that's the 4 cans soda, 10 donuts, and 4 hair dyes?" Dizzy answered just as fast. Sam smiled at him using donut for hydrocodone. Then instantly felt guilty and his face went straight faced serious again.

"Yeah." He texted still stinging from the first smile that crossed his face since...

"Where are you at?" Dizzy asked

"Mo's motel." Sam typed shaking his head at the thought he just had about...

"Give me 15." Dizzy answered. Sam also loved that Dizzy delivered.

"Thanks Dizz." He typed as he walked into the bathroom. After he peed. He took the coldest shower known to man, and waited anxiously for his next fix to be delivered to his damn doorstep. He clutched the cash in his hand tightly as he sat. He was ready, ready to escape. He didn't want to make small talk he just wanted this to transaction to be as fast as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Burning flesh

Dean screamed as he felt the fire making his skin bubble and writhed in pain. He was pinned to the ceiling like his mom, burning. But he couldn't die. He burned for what seemed like days. His new boss, Spike, had a flare for the theatric. Dean pissed him off so he made him burn, right next to Mary as Sam cried in his crib. He fought not to look at the perfect replica of his mother next to him, begging him to make it stop. He didn't dare look at his perfect little baby brother reaching for him, begging to be picked up. He tried to get to him the first few hours but it was impossible. His mother, and baby Sammy's cries, were now falling on deaf ears. He clamped his mouth shut and went into his happy place. He was next to Sam in the impala reaching 80 laughing and singing Back in Black at the top of his lungs.

All the sudden he was back in front of Spike in the room Spike used to tortured souls. He felt the rush of adrenaline in his veins having just been tortured himself four five days straight.

Spike's room was fire red. There where several beams to hang people on. There was restraints, a spiked table. Several torture devices. And large toys.

"So are you gonna torture that pretty little whore for me kid?" Spike yelled in Dean's ear enough to cause pain. He pointed his cane at Dean and smacked him full force across the face with it. Dean swayed a little but made no sound of pain, knowing that was what Spike got off on, and if he wasn't careful he could be tied up in Spike's torture chamber for years. He knew Spike would rape and beat him senseless until he was a whipped collared pet at his side. He'd seen him do it to many souls. Dean looked him straight in the eyes. Spike's eyes were the deepest red he had ever seen. The green skin around his eyes was saggy. He was naked ready to rape someone when ever he had to. Dean stifled a gag as he looked at his pointy teeth yellow and black.

"Yes master Spike." Dean said simply, knowing anything he said could set Spike off in two seconds.

"Good little soldier." Spike nodded approvingly. "You know I couldn't have made you a better one if I tried. I know it was your tough daddy that beat you into submission, before you where ever even a thought in my mind." Spike laughed. Dean winced at the sting of his words, but knew better than to show a reaction at any mention of his family members.

It was too late Spike noticed. Dean smoothed his cut off shorts, the only article of clothing his was allowed, giving his hands something to do rather than wrapping them around Spike's throat. "Oh my little soldier loves his daddy. I'd love someone who endured 100 years of torture for me too Dean. There's nothing wrong with admitting it."

Dean jutted his chin out and gave Spike the most placid look he could muster. "I don't know what that is anymore." He shrugged turning his face evil like he was satan himself.

"Perfect, so perfect for me." Spike said approvingly. "I can't wait to be inside you someday." He said very matter-of-factly. "I would have done it years ago but I want you to be my apprentice. No one will respect you if they witness me rape you, you screaming like a little girl, forced to come shamefully in front of all of them." Dean knew he could do it. That was his trademark, being able to make souls come no matter how much pain they were in. "All in good time my little apprentice. But something to keep you aware that I am your boss, you're everything!" Spike yelled right in Dean's face.

Spike snapped his fingers and Dean's dad, 'not Dad' he told himself over and over again, stood in front of Spike fully naked.

"Well..." Spike spoke to John pointing at his penis.

John sunk to his knees and Dean left slamming the door behind him as he heard his dad's, 'not dad's' mouth slick onto Spike.

He went back to his own torture chamber and picked up the knife on his table of tools. He looked Bianca in the face very softly. She blinked back tears at the kindness and gentleness in his eyes. She looked at him like he was gonna rescue her from this hell that was her new life. "I'm sorry." Dean said. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to. If you're really good you won't have to be tortured anymore. They'll let you..." He stopped not wanting to say what he had become.

"Never." Bianca said very self assured. "I could never intentionally hurt people. The way you do.. You are the scum of the earth. You are the reason hell exists!" She yelled, becoming angry at the false hope on Dean's face.

"I know you're not a bad person Bianca." Dean said pronouncing her name softly. "But it's not my fault you're here. You sold your soul. You sealed you're fate." Dean said calmly knowing he was right. Spike only assigned Dean souls who sold their souls, as a cruel joke at Dean's expense.

"I had to!" Bianca cried. "He was gonna die. I couldn't just watch him get weaker and weaker every day."

"Who?" Dean asked keeping himself calm.

"My brother he was only 6 years old. My parents were dead he was all I had. I had to save him." Her face turned very sad. "I got him ready though. He's the smartest 16 year old I've ever known."

Dean felt physical pain at what she was saying. It hit too close to home. He wanted to curl in the corner and cry. He wanted to screw the sadness out of Bianca. He wanted to hold her and feel comfort by comforting her. But he didn't do any of that. All he did was run his finger across her jaw so lightly she wasn't even sure it happened. She convinced herself she imagined it. Then he looked at her and said the only thing he could. "Do yourself a favor honey, don't ever say anything like that again. The more you say here the more they have to use against you."

He took the knife and pressed it to her skin. She was all tied up and helpless on the cold hard metal table. He carved her from her lower left breast all the way to her belly button, shutting out the screams of protest she was giving. "Like I said I don't want to do this, you'll understand in about 20 hell years."

He continued his torture of her carving, burning her, hitting her as hard as he could. After a while he started to enjoy it, being able to hurt something and escape from all the pain he was put through. He made sure she looked brutal. He knew Spike would check his work, and if he didn't do it good enough he would be punished for days, and Spike would take over where Dean left off with poor Bianca, making her wish she could be tortured by Dean, by anyone else. He didn't tell her any of this because he couldn't risk her telling anyone, which she would. You would say anything if someone hurt you enough.

Dean only dealt out pain. It was the torturer's personal preference when it came to those kind of things. "Whatever gets you off." Was Spike's motto. Dean didn't get into his victims heads because he hated it when it was done to him. He never used their families or other weaknessess against them. He didn't use fear like other torturer demons loved. He never raped any of them, because that was the only fear he had left. Spike was grooming him, took a deep interest in Dean. When Spike raped a soul he just wanted submission, but he was turning Dean into a master torturer. Dean would never do those things to any souls.

Physical pain he could take. It was a welcomed distraction from everything else, but the real torture was the mind games. The slow emotional torture Spike loved. He wanted to tell Bianca all of this but if Spike found out he would never stop hurting Dean in that way that was unbearable. Dean remember the screams from Sammy and his mom. The smell of burning flesh. The smell he could never forget.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Pleasantly numb

Sam was haunched over in the corner of the motel room pleasantly numb. Numb from the pain. The relief was like cool aloe gel on a bad sunburn. It was the best he felt in a long time. Sam had tried all the drugs he bought. And was still drinking his whiskey. Dizz didn't linger he had other places he needed to be. So Sam dove right into bliss mere seconds after he left. Sam knew he was an addict, knew he couldn't live a single day without chasing some sort of high. He knew all of this and couldn't bring himself to care.

He didn't care about anything. He didn't care about himself. He didn't care if he died. He wished he would die. He secretly pondered slipping away into a permanent sleep. He would never feel anything again. He would have done it by now but then Dean would have died for nothing. Although that was what he died for. Sam was an addict, he was weak, he was nothing. Sam closed his eyes for a little while then they flew open when he noticed he wasn't breathing. His chest heaved as he inhaled deeply, feeling fire in his lungs.

Sam sat on his bottom and brought his knees to his chest. He put his head in his hands and just kept his head bowed for what seemed like hours. He didn't pray though. What could he say, that he wanted Dean back? God had to have know that already. That he wanted help from his drug problem? Cause that wasn't what he wanted. He could beg for death. He shook his head no at the thought. He would do it when he was ready.

He would put his gun to his head and pull the trigger and escape the hell he made with his own hands. He knew that everything was his fault. If he wasn't stupid, and got himself killed in the first place, Dean would be here. If he would've been faster, stronger, wiser, Dean would be here. If he wasn't so weak Dean would be here. He shuddered at the thought of Dean seeing him like this. He could see the look of disappointment on his face. "If you wouldn't have left me." He said to no one. "Why!" He said.

Sam started laughing uncontrollably. "He didn't even know about the demon blood" he thought. "Maybe if he would've known he would have just let me die, or kill me like he was supposed to in the first damn place!"

"He didn't know!" he shouted until it bounced of the walls and echoed back to him. "Jake." He thought. If he could do anything it would be brining him back a hundred times, and killing him a different way each time. It was his fault Dean was gone. "It was my fault." He said out loud. Angry at himself for forgetting even for a second. "I wonder what it will be like when I die?" He thought getting excited. All he wanted was the final release of death. "I should just do it now!" He yelled

Sam reached for the bottle of hydrocodone. He knew if he took them all he would surely die. He took the cap off and dumped them in his hand. He rolled the pills around in his hand like they were precious treasure. And to him they were. They were his out. "Finally." He whispered as he brushed his lips over them.

"Stop!" Sam's head shot up fast as he heard the very familiar voice. "Sammy, no." The voice echoed in his ears the most pleasant sound he had ever heard. It was Dean, his only reason for existence, his everything.

Fresh tears sprang to his eyes. "not Dean. Not Dean. Not Dean." He repeated trying not to cling desperately to the hope that it was Dean. He put his head back in his hands his long hair engulfing him in warmth, protecting him.

"Sammy." Dean repeated. "Please." Dean pleaded. "Come on, look at me Sam." Dean demanded.

"No!" Sam screamed. "You're not real. You're never real." Sam gasped trying to control his emotions. He felt Dean brush a feather light finger across his check, under his chin coaxing his head up. Sam let him. But refused to open his eyes.

"Come on Sammy look at me." Dean said gently.

"I'm just hallucinating." Sam whispered his voice cracking.

"It doesn't matter. You need this. This is what you wanted. This is why you got high half out of your mind. You need me." Dean said calmly. "I'm here. Just like you wanted. I'm here for you. I'll do anything to make it better Sammy."

Sam obeyed and slowly opened his eyes. "See it's me." Dean whispered.

"No it's not. It's my twisted version of you." Sam corrected. Sam looked into Dean's piercing green eyes. He was just as he remembered. He wasn't bloody and broken like the day he died. He was perfect like he always was.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You have to know this isn't what I wanted." Dean said regretful.

Sam started sobbing. "Y...you..." Dean looked into his eyes waiting patiently for Sam to compose himself. "Don't apologize to me!" Sam said angrily through the sobs. "It's my fault...my fault...my fault...I'm s...s..." Sam tried to continue but he was wrecked from Dean's apology.

"Shh." Dean soothed. "Hey Jude don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better." Dean started singing softly to Sam the way he did when he had a bad dream when he was little. Sam relaxed letting Dean's soft sweet voice coax him to sleep. He shifted and laid on his side with his head in Dean's lap, as Dean continued singing his favorite Beatles song. Sam fell into a deep sleep with Dean stroking his long brown hair.

When Sam woke Dean was gone. He was shaking again drenched in sweat. He jumped up like a ninja. Took two hydrocodone. Downed the last of his whiskey. Then he went online looking for something to kill.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Stillness Brings The Worst Pain

Dean was finally able to sit down and relax. He sat in the one chair he had in his chamber. Spike had declared that he bloodied up Bianca nice and pretty, and this was his reward. It was worse when he stood still. He couldn't be still. That's when the pain started piercing him right in his chest. He took three deep steading breaths. Then he melted into his pain.

It was easy to be carved and cut into. The worse was the mind fucks that Spike loved to give him. He watched him repeatedly rape his little brother (a 10 year old version of Sam), his mother (beautiful, vibrant.), and his father (screaming like he'd never seen before). He burned all of them because he knew Dean's feelings about fire. So when he was asked to dole out some pain, it was a high he had never felt before. But it was the worst when he was still.

He let his mind wander to Sam. He pictured his big green puppy dog eyes, his long floppy hair, his smile that was so huge. Every time Sam gave him his biggest smile all Dean saw was his mother. He knew how much his mother loved her baby, her Sammy. That was one of the main reasons he took such good care of him, because his mother didn't have the chance. He was tender with him, the way he remembered Mary was with Dean. Sam thought dad had drilled it into Dean's head to look after him. But it was more than that. John taught Dean how to protect Sam, but he loved him sweetly the way he knew Mary would've. "Sammy." He whispered one word.

Dean felt like he was crumbling under the weight of his pain, but he knew better than to cry. One tear in hell turned into a million when Spike got ahold of you. "Sam." He whispered again involuntarily. He pictured Sam safe and perfect somewhere on earth. He pictured him drinking a cold one laughing with some pretty little blond. He knew that that most likely wasn't what was going on, but he forced the image into his head. "You'll be fine Sammy. You're safe, perfect." Dean thought as he got to his feet. He knew that most likely this was a test from Spike. Spike wanted Dean to thirst for blood. He didn't give breaks.

Dean walked across the cold hard floor. He looked at his set up. His flogger, belt, knives, canes, stood high on the wall mocking him. Telling him he was horrible for having used all of them, and for enjoying it. Dean shook off the thought. He was making himself as harsh as possible. He shut himself off to all the things he felt.

Dean knocked hard on Spike's door knowing it would make Spike feel a sense of pride. "Only little girls knock softly. What are you scared I'll get pissed and beat you? That's something you have to risk. You must always be ready for a beating. Don't tiptoe around to stop them, unless you want to be weak. I have no use for weak tourturers. Maybe I need to send you to Flashback!" He yelled at Dean.

Flashback was a room in which all of you're highlights surrounded you. It was pleasurable at first. He could taste his mom's pumpkin pie, feel Sam's tiny hand in his, see his dad's warm smile. But then it would get corrupted. The memory would change into something dark. His dad would bend his mom over and beat her. Sam would scream and cry and Dean would start shaking him. It was horrible because those memories would replace the good ones. He hardly had any good ones already, good ones where they were a family, happy, unaware of the storm that was about to hit them.

Spike emerged from his chamber without warning he smacked Dean hard with his cane right across his jaw. Then again over his head. Dean didn't flinch he simply smiled and looked Spike dead in his red eyes. "Are we gonna keep playing these fucking games? Or are you gonna bring me my next victim." Dean said coldly.

At that Spike smiled his pointy disgusting teeth gleaming with saliva. "Okay my good perfect soldier." He snapped his fingers and said pleased. "He's waiting tied up nice for you." Then her turned on his back to Dean and went back in his chamber. Dean could hear the screams echoing from somebody getting it real good.

Dean decided to ignore it and continue in his chamber ready to work the next victim over nice and slowly.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Killing Brings The Most Relief

Sam could already feel the adrenaline slowly rising in his blood. He packed up his gear and headed out the door. He flinched at the pain he felt when he saw the impala. He unlocked the door and slipped into the drivers seat. He felt the scent of Dean enveloping him. He closed his eyes and imagined Dean for a few seconds inhaling his scent deeply. He wiped the tear he felt slipping down his eye. "Fuck no!" He yelled at himself. He hit the steering wheel as hard as he could. He forced the emotions deep inside. He put the car in drive and pulled out of the motel driveway. He had checked out because the vampire nest, he knew must have existed, due to the strange disappearances, and sighting of said disappeared randomly around town, was a few towns over.

His hands started to shake at the thought of unleashing the best inside himself by killing multiple vampires. When he reached the town dive bar he placed a $50 on the counter and started questioning the bartenders. The guy, old and gray, told him about a really rowdy bunch that threatened him on a regular basis. Sam knew it had to be them. He got the street from the guy, thanked him, finished his double of whiskey, and headed out.

When Sam arrived at the tiny shack. He felt the vampires inside of it. The windows were boarded up, he could hear them laughing and fighting inside. He opened the arsenal in the trunk gathering what he needed. He took out his just sharpened machete and held it up. He picked up his jar of dead man's blood. He dipped his knife and machete in the dead man's blood. He dipped a few throwing stars in the blood as well.

He entered the vampire's nest without a shred of fear on his face. He started by throwing the stars at five of the vamps debilitating them immediately. He then started slicing limbs and heads, them flying everywhere. The vampires screamed in fear. He felt powerful at that. Here he was a human and these things, the undead things, feared him. He took out all of them. There were 18 in total. He went over to the ones shuddering in pain and sliced them with his knife over and over. He pretended they were Jake and he inflicted his revenge on them. He heard Jake's voice when they cried out in agony. When he finally got bored, he put the last three male vamps out of their misery.

He cleaned up after himself throwing all the bodies in the fire he built. Burning them so no one would ever know they were killed. He got in the trunk and took out all the cleaning stuff. He cleaned the shack so nice it almost looked too clean. Then he packed up their things so it looked like they fled. After all that was finished, he got back in the impala. He sped to the nearest motel and broke into a room.

He turned on the light and looked himself over. The expression on his face seemed foreign. He looked cruel, evil even. He had blood all over himself. He took his bag of clothes and toiletries into the bathroom with him. He ignored the bag of Dean's clothes that he always brought down out of habit. He contemplated burning them but the pain he felt at the thought made him shudder. He turned the water all the way to hot. He stepped in being enveloped in the showers warmth. He felt it burning him. He welcomed the distraction from everything he couldn't think about.

After he got ready he went to the front desk and rented the room he had already broken into. He went back to his room took some more pills, opened the new bottle of whiskey he brought down, and took two big gulps. He felt the adrenaline leaving his system. He broke up some of the cocaine he had left over and snorted two very long lines. After he was feeling high enough he did as many push ups as he could handle. He did just as many sit-ups. He lifted himself onto the beam from the room and did 50 pull ups. He then went outside and ran. He ran for as long as he could, until the pain in his legs turned into a deep numbness.

His legs felt like lead. He struggled back to the motel and fell face first on the bed falling into a deep nightmare ridden sleep. He saw Dean being ripped apart by hell hounds over and over again.

This was Sam's new life. Getting high to escape his pain. Killing everything evil he could find. Exercising himself into exhaustion. Drinking himself until he was sober again. Seeing his twisted version of Dean whenever he was nice and numb. This continued util one day he had had enough.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Freedom From Fire

He was in the middle of his 355th victim. Dean Always kept count. He wanted to know exactly how far he had come from the person he had become. All of the sudden his chamber was engulfed in flames. Spike loved randomly torturing Dean this way. Dean kept his face placid he pretended like he couldn't feel it. He went back to his happy place. He was with Sam in the impala. He was safe. His torture victim started screaming and sobbing feeling the fire on his skin.

Dean didn't bother putting it out. He knew he couldn't. It was alive like that night, the night yellow eyes killed his mother. It was mocking him licking at his skin. He closed his eyes and reveled in the feel. Knowing that was exactly how his mother felt. His body started shaking at the thought of her enduring this horrible pain. He knew she went through it for Sam. He knew she would have done it 100 times over for her baby, Sam. She always put them first. Put their pain above her own. Dean had lived that way because of her. Nothing was more important than Sam. He started to enjoy the pain of the fire happy that Sam didn't have to feel it.

Before Dean knew what was going on he felt soothing warmth burning his shoulders. He felt tightness around himself. And he could see hell disappearing as he was lifted away.

When Dean came to he was in a field. It was a pretty field. He saw a cross above his head. He was laying next to a hole. He saw next to him carved on a rock, 'Dean Winchester my hero, my soul, my everything. Love Sam.' Dean almost lost it at the thought of Sam having to bury him, carving this rock. He picked up the rock and put it in his pocket. He was wearing jeans with deep pockets and a green shirt just like the day he died.

He got up kind of loose limbed. He looked at the hole it was deep and perfect for his size. He wondered why Sam wouldn't salt and burn him like he's been taught to do. He shook off the thought of Sam making a deal, saving his body, selling his soul. He could feel the panic rise inside of himself. He couldn't let Sam go to that place.

One word continued echoing in his mind. "Sam, Sammy, Sam?" He had to get to him as fast as he could. He followed the road to the deserted gas station. He saw the paper, September. He had been gone for four months. It felt more like 40 years, but he knew that was impossible. He drank water from the bottle greedily so incredibly thirsty. All the sudden he heard a sharp long noise. He fell to the floor covering his ears as glass started shattering around him. Just as sudden as it started it ended just as abruptly. Dean was concerned at what the hell it was, but all he could think about was one thing. "Sam." continued echoing in his mind.

He Dean reached for the phone behind the counter and dialed Sam's number. He heard the beeping then a click, and the sound of the out of service lady's voice. He shivered at the reason why his number would be out. He was scared that he was too late. Sam was already dead. He went to the back room and found a computer. He looked up Sam's cell phone service. He used a name he thought Sam would use, had them turn on the gps, and looked for him. He found him a little outside of Pontiac, Illinois right where Dean was buried. He found a car to hot wire and made his way to Sam.

It took him and hour to get to Sam. He went to the front desk and described Sam. He told the front desk lady that he was Sam's brother and he was there to surprise him. She gave him the room number. Dean made his way to room number 9 and picked the lock. The scent of sweat and blood pierced his nostrils as soon as the door swung open. The sight he saw brought tears to his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Always Keep Fighting

 _note: it took me a while to get this right. I know about Jarred's campaign to stop suicide and I know suicide is never the answer. But for the benefit of this story I think it just had to be done. I tried not to romatacize it too much. I just wanted to convey the pain Sam felt losing his brother. I entitled this chapter always keep fighting, because I support the cause and truly believe one should always keep fighting._

Sam was laying on the floor of the hotel room. His wrists were sliced, him bleeding into the waste basket. There was an empty bottle of pills on the floor. His eyes were droopy like he was high and falling into a deep sleep.

Dean (the real Dean back from hell) slid onto the floor next to him. Dean kept his expression cool not wanting Sam to see the fear and agony he felt. "It's okay Sammy." He whispered soothing. Sam tried to scoot away from him. "No!" He yelled as Dean tied a bandana around both his wrists as tight as he possibly could, effectively stopping the bleeding. "Please I just don't want to feel it anymore." He begged Dean. Dean sat Sam up and slapped him on the face trying to make him more alert.

"What Sammy?" Dean asked concerned. "What hurts? What did you take baby." He said stroking his hair holding him up in a sitting position

"Everything." Sam said a sob escaping his quivering lips. "Leave me alone!" He yelled harshly

"You don't want that." Dean said keeping his cool. "I got you." Dean said tucking Sam in his chest and stroking his hair softly

"Please." Sam pleaded. Sam swatted Dean's hands away weakly.

Dean let Sam's weak swats push him away, not wanting to upset him anymore. "Why? Honey." He said giving him his best smile. Sam looked into his eyes and he started sobbing. He folded in on himself and let the sobs escape him loudly shaking with the force of them. "I want to die!" Sam yelled at Dean. "I can't do it anymore."

Dean looked at Sam his heart ripping open. "Why?" He said his voice cracking. "I have you." He kept repeating "I'm here."

"No you're not." Sam said throwing week little punches at Dean, hitting him in his chest. He was so weak and groggy his fists felt like butterfly's wings. Dean let him punch him as many times as he wanted until he tired himself out. "Y...y...you're not real." Sam sobbed stuttering. He tried so hard to get the words out. "You're never real!" He shouted finding his voice.

Dean took Sam's hands in his and placed them on his cheeks. "I see. That's fine honey. You saw me. But I'm here now. I promise you I am." He felt Sam's cold hands on his face. "I'm sorry I left you baby."

That set Sam off into a whole new serious of painful sounding cries. He shrieked. He spoke through his rising cries his chest heaving for breath. "N...n..s...s...it's...m...my."

""It's not you're fault baby." Dean finished for him.

"Y...y..."Sam struggled

""No. You were an innocent tiny baby. You never hurt anything. And yellow eyes killed your mother, and put you in some sick game. You didn't want to kill Jake. You didn't want to be evil. And it's not you're fault I couldn't live without you." Dean said assuredly

"N...n..no. I...you...don't understand." And with that last word Sam doubled over throwing up all over the floor.

"Dean looked at him alarmed. "You took too much Sammy. It's okay I got you." Dean lifted Sam onto his feet. Sam staggered and sagged against him so weak. Dean lifted Sam into arms like a baby. The way he used to carry him when he was a baby. The way he hadn't carried him since the night Jake stabbed him, and before that when he crashed his bike at 10.

"Dean carried Sam into the tub and sat him down. He put his finger in Sam's mouth forcing more vomit out of him. Sam continued throwing up until there was nothing left. Dean brought him a glass of cold water. He made him drink it all then turned on the shower as cold as possible. Sam started to become more alert. Dean was careful not to get the tourniquets on his wrists wet, shuddering at the thought of what he tried to do to himself, feeling pain at the amount of pain Sam must have felt to want out that badly. Dean pulled his shirt over his head kneeling beside him. He went to pull off his pants. When Sam started to protest Dean put his finger to his mouth to silence him. "Let me." He commanded. "Come on dude it won't be the first time I've seen it. I used to change your diapers." Sam relaxed a little. Dean washed him carefully massaging his scalp and body. He turned the water warmer and rinsed.

"When Sam was all clean Dean dried him with the white towels. He picked up Sam's toothbrush and brushed his teeth like he did when he was three. Then he picked him up again and placed him on the bed.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Freedom From Pain: The First Time

Dean noticed Sam was hardening and when he looked at him he sprung to full thickness. They had never given into their feelings, the feelings they both know they had for each other. They always knew even when they were children. Sam couldn't help the shudder that escaped him from Dean's close examination

"I don't care anymore." Sam said coming to his knees on the edge of the bed. Sam felt the desire building. He had never been this way with imaginary Dean but he wanted him so bad. Always has wanted him so bad. "Might as well." He thought to himself.

"Don't care about what?" Dean said gruffly. Dean's mouth went dry at the thought of finally being with Sam the way he wanted.

"I don't care that you're just in my head. I just want freedom from the pain. Please." Sam pleased in the voice Dean couldn't deny. Looking up at him with his puppy dog eyes.

Dean lost all control in that second. He needed to forget hell. He didn't care about it being dirty or gross anymore. He had been to hell. He had seen things he could never forget. This was down right healthy compared to the stuff he'd seen. "Okay." Dean whispered.

Dean touched Sam on his chest and slowly lowered him on the bed. Dean couldn't hold back anymore he did something he had always wanted to. He pressed his lips feather lightly onto Sam's mouth. Sam pressed Dean down harder kissing him deeply. He had always imagined what Dean's mouth would feel like. It was way better than he imagined. Dean kissed him like he was starving for it. He growled into his mouth feeling himself harden above Sam.

Sam grinned up onto Dean's jeans. "Hold on baby." Dean said softly. He got up and went to the dresser to retrieve the baby oil, that Sam would put a dime sized amount in his hair every morning. He pulled out his throbbing erection and ran the oil over himself. He put a lot. He also put some on his fingers and hands.

He came above Sam again and started working him with his hand. He slipped a finger inside him massaging him trying to get him ready. After a while Sam was rubbing himself into Dean's hand. And grinding on his fingers. Sam was panting and biting his bottom lip.

Dean poised himself at Sam's entrance. He pressed into him slowly. He was inside him being so slow and careful not to hurt him. When he finally thrust into him, Sam taking him all the way, Sam shuddered and began convulsing. He gasped choking out one word "Dean." He said in a voice Dean had never heard from him before. Sam spilled hot and wet on Dean's lower belly and hand coming after Dean had been in him for a few seconds. "Sorry." Sam said meaning it feeling ashamed.

"Don't apologize baby. You're perfect" Dean said gruffly. Still moving inside him. Sam kept convulsing his inner muscles clenching around Dean.

"Come." Sam begged still ashamed.

With that Dean pumped once, twice, three times and came inside Sam. Dean pulled out of Sam slowly and Sam winced at the twinge of pain. Dean tucked himself back in his jeans and pulled the comforter over Sam who was still naked. He felt Sam shaking and looked into his eyes searching. His green eyes were swimming with blue tears. Dean folded Sam around himself. Caressing his hair and back until he fell asleep. Making little gasps of agony from crying himself to sleep. Dean hated when he did that. He did it some many times when he was a baby. Crying for his mommy he never knew. Crying for his daddy he never saw. Eventually Sam depended solely on Dean and as long as he had him he didn't cry.

Dean felt bad about him having hallucinations, about the drug use, but he would talk to him about that in the morning when he could finally convince Sam he was real.

He slowly moved Sam onto his side and slipped out of bed. He cleaned up the vomit from the floor. He put the towels in the dirty clothes. He saw the his bag of his clothes beside Sam's and his eyes welled up with tears. "He couldn't bring himself to throw away my stuff." Dean thought his heart swelling with emotion. He looked up at the ceiling and thanked the heavens he had Sam back, and he finally got to have him the way he wanted. He would fix Sam. He would let Sam fix him. They would make everything right together.

Dean took a quick shower and changed into his boxers and t shirt as fast as possible. He didn't want Sam to wake up alone. He wanted Sam to wake up warm and protected in his arms. He took a washcloth from the side of the sink and put it in warm water. He didn't put on pants because he didn't want Sam to feel shameful and naked when he woke up.

He slipped back into bed next to Sam. He pulled the comforter over himself and pulled Sam close again. He put his hands under the covers and placed his palms on Sam's firm ass. Saying a silent prayer that he wasn't too rough, that he didn't hurt him. He took the warm washcloth in his hand and squeezed it so warm water would fall on Sam's entrance. He lightly rubbed it cleaning him off. Sam made a soft sound of pleasure that made Dean laugh, but he didn't stir. Dean placed the washcloth on the nightstand and cupped Sam's ass massaging it trying to prevent the soreness and bruising.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The Morning After (Awkward...)

Dean woke up gasping for breath feeling the fire burning his skin. His eyes flew open to the orange light flooding the room. Sam was practically on top of him holding onto him tight, like if he let go Dean would disappear. Dean's heart sank at the realization of the hallucinations Sam had. He wondered how often it happened. He wondered what the hell fake Dean said to him that upset him so much. He put his hands over the bloody bandanas on Sam's wrists. He shook at the fact that Sam hurt himself. He knew the lacerations weren't deep enough to require stitches and that all he had to do was bandage him up and make sure he didn't get an infection. He would take care of Sam he would fix everything he had broken.

Sam started to flinch, his eyes wet. He was saying something in his sleep. "Please Dean. Don't! Don't leave me. Please." He kept repeating Dean stroked his hair coaxing him out of his sleep, as Sam's arms tighten even more around Dean's chest.

Sam held Dean as tight as he could. But he was still slipping away. He begged Dean not to leave but he just pushed him further away. "I was never here. You're going crazy. Maybe you succeeded with you're death and this is hell." Sam started screaming at the thought. His eyes flew open as he felt something slowly shaking him. He was drenched in sweat. His eyes were leaking slow tears.

He looked into Dean's beautiful emerald eyes. And started pushing away from him. "Please! Leave me alone. Why do you torture me? Why! Why didn't you let me die?" He said scrambling to his feet. The comforter fell off him reveling his nakedness. The comforter fell, caught in his ankles. He tripped over and landed hard on his ass. He felt a deep pain. Not just from the fall. The fall made it worse, but the pain was deep inside, a soreness. He winced sucking in air through his teeth.

Dean chuckled at his clumsiness, but got out of bed and stood over him and lifted Sam to his feet. "Easy there tiger." He said smiling. He held Sam close. Sam put his head on Dean's chest breathing in his scent deeply. Dean's hand moved from his shoulders lower until he was cupping his ass massaging it sending sensations of pain that were slowly dissipating. "You got to be careful sweet heart. I'm sorry if you're sore. I just couldn't help how sweet you were." He said meaning it.

"I am so fucked up!" Sam gasped getting away from Dean. He looked down at the bandanas on his wrists and went to pull them off.

"Don't!" Dean commanded as he swatted his hand off his right bandana.

"Why am I still seeing you?" Sam questioned. "I'm sober now. I should be..."

"I'm real baby." Dean said coming over to Sam planting a kiss on Sam's mouth. Moving his hands lower again to his bottom still trying to ease his pain.

It wasn't the first kiss they shared. It was the third, aside from all the boo boos Dean had kissed when they were younger. The second they had shared last night. The first one had been after Dean sold his soul for Sam, and Sam had woken up from his death. That time Dean hugged him tightly and then looked into his big green eyes and planted a feather light kiss on his mouth. Sam didn't say anything at the time, thinking it was just because he was near death. And Dean had kissed his forehead every night when he had put him to bed when he was little. It just felt like more. Sam thought it might've been in his imagination but longed for it to be more.

Sam let Dean kiss him for a long time before he pulled back, and winced as Dean's caressing intensified. "Trust me it will help." Dean said simply. Sam's eyes shot to Dean's realizing he was very much real.

Dean saw the panic rise in Sam eyes. "Sam, Sam.. It's okay." He said as realization washed over Sam.

Sam ran from Dean into the bathroom and Dean could hear him throwing up. He heard the shower come on. He sunk to the floor and leaned against the door listening to Sam. He heard him showering. He heard him brush his teeth. Then the distinct sound of Sam crying. The kind of crying he did when he was ashamed. "Sam it's okay." Dean shouted through the door trying to reassure him.

Sam kept crying. Dean's heart sunk wondering if he took advantage of him. If he didn't really want to be with Dean like that last night. Dean started panicking wondering how he could make his rape of Sam okay. Which is what he did if Sam didn't consent.

Sam emerged from the bathroom fully dressed with his face in his hands. He wouldn't look at Dean he ran to the nightstand and started fumbling through the drawer. When he saw Sam pull out a big baggy of coke he ran to him and tackled him to the bed. Sam's body was convulsing uncontrollably with withdraw shakes. Dean reached in the drawer and pulled out a tie and tied Sam's hands to the bed avoiding the bandana tourniquets. He took the belt of his pants on the floor and tied his feet. Sam looked up at him helpless, fear clear on his face.

"It's okay honey." Dean whispered. "I'm not gonna hurt you I promise. I will never hurt you like that again. I jut need to get some supplies to make sure you can get clean. He ran to the bathroom and flushed every drug he could find down the toilet.

Sam continued shaking. And writhing in pain. "I'm gonna go get some stuff baby. Behave for me. I know I have no right to ask that of you, after... what I did, but after I get you better I can leave you alone." Dean said sadly.

Fresh tears sprang to Sam's eyes Dean took out another tie and covered Sam's mouth with it so he couldn't scream. Dean left the motel room and put the do not disturb sign on the door and headed to get supplies.

When he came back Sam was whimpering in pain body still shaking. Dean took of the gag and made him drink some Gatorade. He pulled out some ointment and bandages. He pulled off the bandanas and slathered Sam's wrists with ointment. Then he bandaged them nice and tight.

"Are y..you really...g..going to leave?" Sam asked through the shakes.

"If that's what you want, yes." Dean answered combing the hair out of Sam's eyes with his fingers. "I'm sorry should I not touch you?" He asked his hand freezing instantly.

"No...it's helping..a little." Sam stammered. "I'm s...s...sorry Dean."

"For what?" Dean asked.

"Being weak...b...becoming a j...j...junkie."

"We don't have to talk about that right now. " he said stroking Sam's hair again.

"I'm r...r..really fucked up. I d...d...didn't know... I...t...thought you were a hallucination."

"What do you think happened last night?" Dean asked calmly. "Did I take advantage of you?" Dean said looking away from Sam.

"I didn't know you were real... I did it wrong...I w...w..was so dirty... I fucked.. you..." Sam said shame in his voice.

"Technically I fucked you." Dean smiled relief washing over him. "That's why you were worried. I don't care if you were hauled up here fucking your mind Dean 24/7. I'm even a little flattered." Dean blushed. "I thought that you felt like I raped you." Dean confessed.

"God no!" Sam yelled meaning it. "I came too s...soon I thought you d...didn't like it."

"No. Sammy I loved how much you reacted to me. How you came so nice for me, unable to hold it back. I'm not trying to hold this back anymore. I've been to hell. I know real evil and what we have here isn't it." Dean said pointing at the two of them. "This is my second chance I don't want to waste it. I don't want to stop myself from truly being happy." He smiled at Sam.

Sam pulled against the restraints trying to kiss Dean. Dean lowered himself to Sam and kissed him desperately the way Sam needed. "Say you are ready for this to be it, for us to be together and l'll never leave you again."

"Yes." Sam said one word. His expression said everything he couldn't. It said that he was in agony without Dean, that he was ready to let go, and be more.

"We have to get you better first. I don't want you using drugs anymore." Sam nodded in agreement. "Okay now that I know you're not disgusted by the sight of me. There's something I have to do. You're not gonna like it and it's gonna be a little uncomfortable, but I have to do it okay?"

"Okay." Sam said trusting him.

Dean untied Sam's feet and flipped him onto his stomach. He pulled Sam's pants and underwear all the way off. Sam's butt tightened nervously. "Come on let me baby." Dean said making Sam relax. Dean lowered his head and kissed Sam's ass right in the center. "Poor baby there is a little bit of bruising." Dean put a liberal amount of hemorrhoid ointment on his fingers, there was pain medicine in it so he knew it would help. He teased Sam until he opened to him. Dean slid a finger in massaging him. Sam winced before the pain subsided the ointment working. "Good. You're doing great baby." Dean praised Sam. Sam opened more for him. Dean went deeper sticking a second finger in making sure he got medicine where it needed to be. He moved his fingers in a circular motion hitting all Sam's happy spots.

Sam got hard and started bucking up into Dean's fingers. He gasped wanting more. "No honey I can't you're too sore." Dean said flipping him back to his back. He kept his fingers inside massaging him. He brushed his lips over Sam's painfully hard erection. Dean blew warm air over his thighs. And tickled and nipped at him until he was trying to ride Dean's fingers. Dean pulled his fingers out slowly trying to leave as much ointment behind as he could. He cupped Sam's balls and started massaging them. Dean took Sam in his mouth and worked him slowly.

He sucked lazily and softly. He waited until Sam was writhing with pleasure before he increased his pace and let Sam come hard in his mouth, Dean swallowing it. Sam made a face that said 'what about you?'. Dean answered his unasked question "in good time sweetie." He smiled and just pulled Sam into his arms not untying him. And stroked his back and butt until he fell asleep safe in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

Sam woke up to Dean screaming. It sounded like someone was burning him. He tried to reach for Dean but his wrists were still secured to the bed. He tried soothing Dean with his words. "Dean, I'm here. We're together again. Nothing can hurt you." He repeated this mantra over and over.

Dean felt the fire burning his skin. He tried to get to Sammy. He was in his crib screaming, begging to be picked up. "This has to be a dream." Dean thought. "No. That was a dream, me and Sam together that was the dream." He started shaking and screaming begging God for it not to be true. All he wanted was Sam. He heard Sammy calling to him. He ran to the sound desperately, before everything went black.

Dean jumped up, alert. He heard Sam whispering sweet things. "Dean." He saw Sam scrabbling, trying to touch him. Dean smiled and got closer letting Sam feel his warmth. Dean let the happiness and contentment wash over him as he realized this was real, and he had only had a nightmare.

Dean planted a messy hungry kiss on Sam. He kissed him deeply like he had all day. "Sam groaned into his mouth before pulling away from his kiss. "You have to untie me Dean." Sam pleaded.

"Sorry, Sammy I can't do that." Dean answered apologetically.

"Please." Sam begged.

"I can't, not until you dry out." Dean said sternly.

"But you have to." Sam commanded. "I need to touch you. I need to Dean. I've needed to the whole time you were gone."

"I think you touched imaginary Dean enough Sam." Dean teased.

Sam blushed crimson at that statement. He shook his head from side to side. "We never did anything like..." He stopped himself.

"Oh?" Dean said realizing what Sam said that night. "That's why you said you didn't care about me being fake anymore."

"Yes." Sam agreed hopefully.

"I still can't untie you baby." Dean said shooting down Sam's hope. "How about you think about touching me as your reward for getting clean."

"Okay, but I have to pee." Sam answered.

"Okay, not a big deal." Dean reached for the empty Gatorade bottle.

"No. Please don't make me do that." Sam begged.

Dean cocked his head to the side with a wicked smile on his face. "Come on Sam. I've gotten pretty familiar with little Sam. It's not that big of a deal."

Sam shook his head no frantically. "No, no, no." He kept repeating.

"Come on Sammy if you do this for me, when you're better you can tie me up and do whatever you want to me." Dean said enticingly.

"Promise?" Sam asked softening to the idea.

"I promise." Dean agreed.

"Okay." Sam said nervously. Dean guided Sam's penis into the bottle. Sam shuddered at the relief he felt. When he was finished Dean dabbed the tip with toilet paper then went to the bathroom throw out the pee. Sam heard Dean washing his hands. Sam didn't know why but he was fully erect at the intimacy they just shared.

Dean came back in the room and saw that Sam was achingly hard. "Poor baby." Dean said climbing on the bed next to Sam. He leaned down and took Sam deep in his mouth in one swift motion. Sam bucked at the hard fast pleasure. "N..no Dean I want to be with you too." Sam eyes looked puppy like. "Please release me."

Dean pondered letting Sam go for a moment. "Do you promise not to go anywhere? Or contact anyone?" Dean asked sternly.

"Yes, where would I want to go. I've wanted you back this whole time." Sam said honestly.

Dean didn't say anything he just began untie Sammy slowly. It was almost like he already regretted untying him before he had even done it. Sam watched his face as he skillfully untied him. He gasped as Dean undid the last tie. Sam shoved his hands in Dean's hair pushing his mouth to his hard and fast. Before Sam knew what was happening Dean had his jeans down and was pulling down his boxers. Sam grinded his hips up aching for contact. Dean chuckled as he let himself spring free, already fully erect. Sam groaned into his mouth gruffly.

Sam rolled them over so he was on top pulling off Dean's jeans and boxers completely, not breaking his hungry kiss. Sam wanted to be inside Dean. He wasn't sure if Dean would be okay with it, but he was too embarrassed to ask. He broke their kiss long enough to slick himself up with baby oil. He coated his fingers with a generous amount. He brought his left hand down stroking Dean fast and hard. He brought his index finger to Dean's entrance looking into his eyes asking for permission. Dean shook his head yes, bitting down on his lips. Sam slid his finger inside of Dean waiting for his to acclimate to the intrusion. Dean clenched his inner muscle around Sam's finger bitting his lip even harder before relaxing and melting into the pleasure of it. Sam stroked him with his left had and eased his finger in and out. He watched Dean's face looking for signs of discomfort. Dean's eyes fluttered closed as he started bucking his hips into Sam's fist. Sam inserted his second finger which made Dean gasp loudly. Sam smiled at that curving his fingers stroking Dean's happy spot. Dean moaned loudly which made Sam move his mouth over his swallowing his groans. Sam countied his claiming of dean's body.

Dean turned his head to the side, breaking their kiss. Sam started kissing his neck and nipping it. "I'm gonna come." Dean said barley coherently.

Sam just increased his speed and moved his mouth up to Dean's ear nibbling it, demanding Dean's release.

Dean fucked himself on Sam's fingers and hand, before he sceamed out his release. Sam brought his mouth to Dean's agian muffling his cries. Dean's vision blurred as his whole body tightened and then let go. His body shook as he covered Sam's palm and abdomen in his warm hot come.

Sam kissed every inch of Dean's face waiting for him to come down. When Dean's body stopped shaking Sam positioned his cock at his engrance and thrust himself inside in one fast motion. He held Dean's penis in his hand not wanting to overwhelm him, knowing he would be sensitive having just come. He slowly started to move inside Dean. When Dean started to thicken in his hand he started stroking him gently. Sam waited for Dean to become fully erecr before he took his hand of his penis running his hands all over Dean's chest. When Dean started matching Sam's thrusts Sam let go, fucking Dean harder and faster.

Dean lost his mind taking Sam inside as deep as possible. He pulled Sam's head down hard their mouths mingling again. Dean bit Sam's bottom lip hard enough to make Sam gasp. Sam fought not to come waiting for Dean to come first.

Dean brought his legs up further taking Sam in deeper lifting his whole body of the mattress trying to get it harder. Sam got the hint putting his hands behind Dean's ass pushing into him even deeper. Dean came hard his whole body shaking with it. Sam thrust into him even harder as Dean's inner musles milked Sam's orgasm out of him. Sam moved even faster intensifying Dean's orgasm.

They laid together for awhile trying to catch their breaths. Sam pulled out of Dean slowly and moved them onto their sides looking into each other's eyes. Neither one of them said anything waiting for the emotions to settle. Sam knew if he tried to say anything he would start crying.

Dean also knew that if he said something Sam would lose it, and he'd be holding a mass of limbs shuddering and crying. Dean brought his hand up to Sam's check and stroked it trying to pour all of the love he had for Sam in that one small gesture. Sam wasn't usually this emotional, but he was still sore from losing Dean and overwhelmed by the emotions of getting him back.

After a while Dean smiled hugely and spoke. "You're really good at that." He said genuinely.

Sam blushed and matched Dean's smile. "Yeah?" He asked insecure.

"Oh, yeah." Dean admitted.

Sam pressed his mouth to Dean's gently conveying his love. "I didn't know if you were going to go for that."

"I was nervous, but I didn't want to be a hypocrite. I mean I didn't even ask you, and you got hurt."

"I wanted you Dean. I practically begged for it." San corrected him.

"Still you were sore, are sore. But I didn't know it was going to be that..." Dean searched for the right words. "Amazing." He whispered.

Sam pulled Dean into his chest making him lay there Dean protested a little but then relaxed into Sam's warmth. Sam let the few tears of joy slip past his eyes and rubbed Dean's spine until he fell asleep. Sam listened to his breathing, like a beautiful melody, and thanked heaven he had Dean back.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Home

Dean awoke abruptly, to the sound of choking and coughing. Dean sat up at attention. He felt for Sam and immediately turned his head when he realized he wasn't there. He got up and padded slowly to the bathroom where the noise was coming from.

Sam got up from bed 10 minutes ago throwing up violently. He tried to be quiet so he wouldn't wake up Dean. The shakes where rattling his whole body again. He was hunched over the toilet still naked from earlier. He countinued gagging his whole body heaving but nothing else would come out. His head ached fiercely and he was freezing.

Dean paused at the open door at the sight of Sam dry heaving, naked. He was gonna make a morning sickness joke, but thought better of it. He knew there wasn't much he could do to ease Sam's pain, but he had to try anyway.

"What do you need?" He asked ready to go to the ends of the earth to help Sam.

"C...c...cold." Sam managed to say through the tremors.

"I got you Sammy." Dean said as he went to the bedroom to retrieve the comforter. He came back into the bathroom and knelt next to Sam. He wrapped him up tightly in the comforter and rubbed him up and down trying to warm him.

"Th...th..." Sam tried to say.

"That's what I'm here for." Dean cut him off.

Sam's teeth were chattering, and he was struggling to speak. After a few minutes the heaving stopped.

Dean's hands paused on his shoulders as Sam tried to stand. Dean let him, not wanting to upset him.

When Sam got to his feet he swayed. Dean swore and scooped him up quickly. Sam wrapped his arms tightly around Dean's neck and held on. Dean placed him gently on the bed. Sam curled into a tight ball, bringing his knees into his chest, trying to ease the waves of nausea.

Dean curled himself around Sam letting his warmth warm Sam. Sam felt Dean's warmth envelope him and relaxed into it. When Sam's body's shaking slowed a little Dean finally spoke. "Sam I need to ask you something, and I don't want you to think I'm getting angry. This isn't an accusation, okay?"

"Okay..." Sam said curiously.

"How did this happen? You were always such a health nut. You never even tried pot. When did it start? What drugs do you use? Where do you get it?" The questions just started pouring out of Dean.

Sam took one of his arms out of the comforter and reached behind him. Dean got the hint and laced his fingers with Sam's holding his hand tight.

Sam took a deep breath not wanting to go back there, to the time he lost Dean, to the pain he felt, but he had to explain. He wanted Dean to know. "The first time..." Sam stopped surprised at how raspy his voice was from throwing up. Dean squeezed his had tighter asking him to continue.

Sam held onto Dean's hand thrown back into that night. "It was a week after you..." Sam stopped again, unable to say those words without breaking. "I was really drunk. I hadn't slept in days, and I was so tired. I was outside of the bar taking a breather. We've gone to bars so much together that it hurt to go inside. I didn't know what to do next. I knew I couldn't make it another day without...you. There was this guy and he called me over. He said I looked like I needed to sleep. He offered to give me something to knock me out. I didn't know exactly what it was called...I didn't really care. I took it and it was gone, the pain. I was numb and it felt like cool gel on a bad burn. After that I needed it. It was the only thing that helped. When I started doing a large amount of different drugs, Coke, heroine, hydrocodone I saw Dean, the fake Dean. At first it was incredible. I would get as high as possible to see him. But then he said things I knew you would never say."

"What did he say?" Dean had to know.

"He said that I was a disappointment, and if I needed you so bad, I should just kill myself. That was the first time I thought about it?"

"Killing yourself?" Dean clarified.

"Yes" Sam said looking ashamed.

Dean rubbed his arm and squeezed his hand trying to soothe him. "It's okay baby, keep going." Dean said gently.

It took Sam awhile to compose himself, not wanting to burst into tears. He had to get this out, he owed Dean that much. "It made me crazy, seeing Dean but knowing that he wasn't real, that I was going insane. But I couldn't stop. It hurt too much to stop. I had to see you even if...it wasn't you. It hurt so much, I just needed and escape."

"I'm not blaming you. I know how it feels. When I lost you it was"

"Not the same thing." Sam interrupted angrily.

"What?" Dean asked curiously.

"You lost me for like a day. I've lived without you for four months. Plus you got the satisfaction of saving me. I tried everything Dean. I tried opening the Devil's gate. I tried selling my soul, but no demon would deal. You were rotting in hell for months, for months, and there was nothing I could do to stop it." Sam yelled unable to hold back the tears anymore. He tensed up tight trying to fight it.

Dean spoke gently like he did when Sam was a child. "Shh. It's okay. Just let it out Sam. I'm here and I'll take care of you."

With those words Sam's turned around and leapt into Deans arms holding him tightly. Dean squeezed him hard trying to comfort him. Sam cried into Deans chest unable to hold it back anymore. Dean just held him and let him cry.

When Sam started to settle Dean spoke softly. "Sam I'm sorry I did this to you."

"No. Please don't." Sam begged. "You don't get to apologize. You saved my life and I couldn't even honor that. I tried to kill myself. Look at me. I'm a junkie. I'm so weak. I hate...myself for becoming this." Sam said his voice muffled pressing his face into Dean's chest.

Dean put his finger under Sam's chin and made him look into his eyes."I wasn't trying to hurt you Sam. I just wanted to know how it happened. I've said it before, but I'll say it a million times, as ever many times as you need. It's not your fault. I'm the one who couldn't live without you. You are the best person I've ever known. Promise me you won't hate yourself."

"Dean I..." Sam couldn't make that promise.

"What if I told you I hated myself? What if I hated myself so much that I got my gun and shot myself." Dean's eyes grew dark. Sam didn't know how much Dean really did hate himself, how true everything he said actually was.

"Stop it!" Sam yelled he couldn't think of losing Dean again. He couldn't do it again, he wouldn't survive. "I promise. Okay? I'll try to see myself through your eyes." Sam looked deep into Dean's eyes, his eyes swollen and red from crying. His mouth was dry and chapped from dehydration, a side effect of the withdraw.

Dean's gaze softened. He didn't know how much Sam meant his promise, but he knew that he would do whatever it took to make him feel perfect and loved.

"I've been scared to ask this, but I need to know." Sam said interrupting Dean's train of thought. "How did you get out?"

"I thought it was you, but when I saw you trying to..." Dean searched for the words. "Hurt yourself I knew it couldn't have been." Dean didn't say it, but Sam understood. If it had been Sam he would've been waiting for him. He wouldn't have been in so much pain, about to end it all.

"So what happened?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. One minute I was in hell, and then I woke up in a field, where I was buried. Why did you bury me by the way?" Dean asked confused.

"I was gonna burn you...but I couldn't do it. I thought that maybe one day I would find a way to bring you back."

"I kept this." Dean said reaching into the nightstand door pulling out the rock Sam had carved. He showed it to Sam.

'Dean Winchester my hero, my soul, my everything. Love Sam.'

Sam read his words again feeling the weight of emotion behind them. He traced his fingers over each letter before he looked back at Dean.

"Oh that." Sam blushed searching for words to explain the heartfelt message he had left on Dean's grave.

"I loved it Sammy. It made me feel...loved." Dean said blushing as well.

Sam closed the distance between them and kissed Dean deeply, because there were no words to convey how much he loved him. And how complete he felt now that he was home, which to the boys wasn't a place. To them home was each other.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Blame

Dean rubbed his eyes sleepily and looked at his Sam. Sam was now too hot for blankets and was sweating again. He shook Sam lazily trying to wake him.

"Mmmmph." Sam tried to shake Dean's hand off.

Dean smiled hugely at that. Sam had always been the one who hates being woken up. He remembered waking him up for school was always a pain in the butt. He remembered the song his mom would sing to him to put him to sleep and wake him up. He had the idea of singing it to Sam. He would sing it to him when he was really little, but he was sure Sam had forgotten about that. "Hey Jude don't make it bad." He started.

Sam's eyes flew open. He looked over at Dean and smiled. Dean smiled even bigger. Sam Winchester's real smile, not the one he used to get his way, but his genuine smile could stop traffic. It was youthful and beautiful. It was the exact smile that his mom had. It was one of the only things Dean had left of her. Sam yawned and then lazily tickled Dean's forearm. "What?" He said through another yawn.

"You want to take a shower, and then breakfast?" Dean asked hopeful. He wasn't betting on it but he thought maybe Sam would do better today, withdraw free.

"Yeah." Sam said seeing the hope in Dean's eyes. His head was pounding again and his skin felt too tight, like he had to rip it off.

Dean sprang to his feet and went to the other side of the bed helping Sam get to his feet.

He helped Sam to the bathroom. He turned on the water and tested it with his hand. When he decided it was a the perfect temperature he turned on the shower. "Do you need...help?" Dean asked.

"No." Sam said adamantly.

"Okay." Dean said, as he left closing the door behind him.

Sam went to the door and locked it. Once he heard Dean make his way to the kitchen area he went on his quest. He had a stash in the bathroom that he was sure Dean hadn't found. He looked underneath the sink. There was nothing. He checked the medicine cabinet, nothing. He checked the last place that he had hidden a small baggy of Coke. He opened the toilet tank, and felt for the baggy he had taped just above the water line. He didn't feel the bag, but instead there was a piece of paper taped there. He lifted the folded paper and read it.

'Sorry Sammy I had to flush all of it. I was hoping you wouldn't look for it, but I know you are an addict, so I had a feeling you would. Don't worry Sammy you'll get through this, you have me.'

Sam crumpled up the note angrily and threw it in the toilet bowl. He slammed the toilet tank top down. He went over to the mirror and looked at himself. He eyes were sunken in and his skin was gray. He looked like a man going through withdraw, and that pissed him off. He could hear Dean, fake Dean, telling him to end it all. "Shut up!" He yelled as he swung at the mirror.

Dean was in the kitchen brewing coffee when he heard the loud crash. He dropped the bag and ran to the bathroom door. He turned the handle but it was locked. "Sammy!" He called out. "What was that? Are you okay?" Dean asked concerned.

Inside Sam's fist was bloody with pieces of glass under the skin. He groaned in pain but didn't answer Dean. He didn't know why, but he couldn't answer Dean. He went to the shower and put his hand in the stream. The blood mingled with the water before disappearing down the drain. Sam stepped inside the shower and lost his balance, feeling dizzy again. Sam sat down in a crouch letting his hair cover his face. He felt the water cascade all over his body. He pretended like the water was washing away all his insecurities.

Dean waited for the answer. There was still nothing. He had said if Sam didn't open the door he would break it down. Sam knew he could do it, physically. Dean pictured Sam passed out in the shower with the water filling up the tub, going into his mouth and nose, his lungs. Dean kicked the door, hard. The door busted open on the first try. He went in the bathroom and he saw the mirror broken. He saw the drops of blood that led into the shower. He didn't speak he just pulled open the shower curtain, terrified of what he would find.

He saw Sammy staring blankly. Dean didn't say anything he just turned off the shower, plugging the tub and putting on the bath. Sam didn't move or say anything. That made Dean even more worried. Dean got the shampoo and put a generous amount in his palm. He made a nice lather with it and started washing Sam's hair gently, like he was a baby. When the tub was filled enough he stopped the water and directed Sam to lay down. Saw obeyed, still speechless. Dean rinsed his hair, still gentle. Dean grabbed the washcloth and put another generous amount on the cloth. He worked up a nice lather and slid the cloth across Sam's skin. It wasn't a sexual gesture, more like a parent taking care of a child. When he was done he directed Sam to stand up and he wrapped him in a towel. Sam just stood in the bathroom still expressionless, and speechless. Dean lifted him up, noting how much lighter Sam had gotten.

Dean laid Sam on the bed and went to drying his hair. He brushed the tangles and curls out of the ends. After that was over he brought one of Sam's t-shirts and directed him to lift his arms so he could put it on him. Sam was obeying his every command, but he still remained expressionless. Dean brought some boxers and slid them over Sam's naked legs. Dean brought them up and directed Sam to lift up so he could move them in place.

Dean went to the nightstand and pulled out the bandages and tweezers. He also brought the whiskey over and a washcloth. First he looked over the bandages on Sam's wrists they were pretty munched healed, so he put ointment on them but did not bandage them again. After that he placed a washcloth under Sam's hand and poured whiskey over it. Sam didn't flinch and still remained completely expressionless. Dean poured whiskey over the tweezers and took out the small pieces of glass that were lodged in Sam's right first. Dean had the precision of a surgeon.

When he was done tending to Sam's injuries he spoke. "Sammy what's wrong?"

Sam said nothing.

Dean forced his voice to be soft and gentle even though he was getting annoyed with Sam's silence. "Talk to me...please." He pleaded.

Still nothing.

"Come on baby." Dean said brushing Sam's hair back.

Nothing.

"Sam!" Dean finally gave into the frustration and yelled.

Sam said nothing but laid on his side on the bed, closing his eyes.

Dean wanted to shake him and demand an answer, but he didn't want to further traumatize him. Dean just laid next to him he was beat from taking care of Sam, and he fell asleep.

When Sam heard the familiar sound of Dean's even breathing. He got up. He wanted to say so many things to him. He wanted to let everything that he kept bottled in loose. He felt like he was suffocating. He had Dean for less than a week and he already needed a break. It was too much. He knew he loved him, but he needed freedom. He needed to get well on his own terms. He went to the nightstand and pulled out the pad and pen and wrote Dean a note. He left the note on his pillow and kissed Dean's forehead and lightly stroked his hair. Sam took out his phone and snapped a quick picture of Dean sleeping, his favorite sight in the whole world. Sam picked up his bag and left. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't know how long he would be gone, he just knew he needed a break.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Indispensable

Dean was running to Sam as fast as he could. He saw him go into the house in the woods. He saw Spike pour accelerant all over it and strike the match. He heard the unmistakable scream of agony from Sam. The he smelled the burning flesh. He ran inside the house but it was too late there was nothing left of Sam. "I love you." He tried to say. He kicked himself for never saying it before. "No! Sam!" He sank to he's knees begging it to stop. He blinked his eyes rapidly willing it to disappear. "Let this be a dream. Please. No!" Dean screamed himself awake.

Dean reached for Sam needing his touch. He got a fistful of sheets for his efforts. He turned to face Sam and he wasn't there. "Sam?" Dean looked around the room and didn't see him. He walked to the bathroom and Sam wasn't there. Panicked started to flood him. "Sam!" He yelled now terrified.

Dean went back into the bedroom and saw a small note with his name printed on it. He thought it might be a ransom note afraid someone took Sam, but surely he wouldn't have slept through that. He recognized the handwriting as Sam's and calmed down. He was sure he would open it and it would just say he went to get coffee or something.

Dean unfolded the note and read it. 'I'm sorry Dean, I'm never gonna get better with you acting as my prison guard. I'll come back soon. Don't look for me and try not to worry. You can call me in a few days." Dean crumpled the note in his hand and threw it. He was angry at the sudden turn of events but most of all he was scared, scared that Sam would use, scared that he would hurt himself, scared that he would get hurt by something else.

Dean reached for his phone and dialed Sam's number. He hadn't made any promises, and he needed to make sure he was okay. "Sorry I missed your call leave a message and I'll get back to you a soon as I can." He got Sam's answering machine. Dean collected himself so he wouldn't sound too angry. "What the hell Sam? I'm gonna go and get you if you don't call me back." Dean only said that and hung up. He knew if he said anything else Sam surely wouldn't call him back.

Sam set his bags down. He was a few towns over from Dean. It was September but so much colder than where he had left Dean. He had gotten the honey moon sweet at a very expensive hotel. He looked at the huge king size bed. He went to the restroom and looked at the shower big enough for two, and the jacuzzi also big enough for two. Suddenly he ached for Dean. He knew they would have never even thought about getting a room like this, but since he was there all he could think of was Dean.

He went into the kitchen there was champagne and strawberries set out. There was also a can of whip cream. The kitchen was so much nicer than any motel he had ever stayed at. It had a stove and oven. It had a dishwasher as well. The fridge was stocked with cheeses and meats. There was fruit and salad stuff too. Sam instinctively reached for his phone to call Dean and tell him about it all.

He unlocked his phone and then frowned remembering he couldn't call him. But when he looked at the screen he saw a missed call and voicemail from Dean. He clicked the message and listened. He needed to hear his voice. "What the hell Sam? I'm gonna go and get you if you don't call me back." Sam shivered at the threat. He hadn't heard Dean talk like that to him in a while. It was a thrill. It made him want to run further away. The idea of being chased by Dean excited him, but he didn't want to be caught. He thought better of it, and realized he didn't want to play games. Underneath the anger and threatening in Dean's voice he heard the undertone of fear and worry. He dialed Dean's number and waited for him to answer.

"Where are you?" Dean demanded.

"I can't tell you that." Sam didn't let his voice waiver.

"Are you okay?" He said more concerned.

"I'm fine." Sam said reassuringly.

"You know I'm gonna find you." Dean said as a promise.

"Don't. I'm not using. I just didn't want you to worry."

"What about everything else Sam?" Dean said referring to Sam's suicide attempt.

"I'm okay now. All better now that you're back from the dead, grief is funny that way." Sam said sarcastically.

"Bottom line is I should have gotten you the help you need. Why would you just disappear like that Sam I.."

"I just wanted to call and let you know I was fine." Sam interrupted. "Goodbye Dean." With that Sam hung up.

Dean heard the sound of the call disconnection. Fortunately for him, he had turned Sam's GPS on, just in case something like this happened, and he was already packed and on his way to Sam. He didn't know what he would say but he knew he would make him pay for leaving like that. Dean let his thoughts wander as he increased his speed onto the near empty highway. He knew he hurt Sam when he died. He wondered if this was how he felt. Dean could feel the desperation seeping out of his pours. He had to get to him. Now.

Sam walked back into the bedroom area. The sheets and comforter were a deep red wine. He felt the shivers coming on again. He pulled back the comforter and climbed into the most comfortable bed he had ever been in. He turned to his side and toyed with the pillow case next to his. He imagined Dean next to him looking into his eyes. Sam closed his eyes and pretended Dean was there with him stroking his hair. Sam rested willing himself to stop shaking and get over the withdraw.

TO BE CONTINUED

AN: Sorry it's taken me so long to update. It's just the holiday season and all. Well I've had this much done for awhile now. I'm not sure exactly where I'm going next with this. I just thought I'd go ahead and post the first part of chapter 13. I'll get the second part up in the next couple of days.


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